What Doesn't Kill You
by Lucy Maria Elmer
Summary: Set after the Christmas episode in Ukraine, two of Holby's own face an ordeal that will change their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

**What Doesn't Kill You… **

(I own nothing. I'm just playing! Please don't wound me!)

Huge thanks to Danny for being my sounding board and beta!

(Warning, some mature themes, aka miscarriage, allusion to hanky panky and a hint of violence. Please don't read if you're uber sensitive.)

He lay there quietly as dawn broke outside the quaint house that she had grown up in, her slumbering and undressed form pressed flush against his body and her long raven hair cascading over the pillows behind her. Her olive skin shone under the gentle light of the morning sky, the rosy hue upon her normally pale cheeks making her appear almost ethereal to him, her rosebud lips slightly parted as she drew steady breaths. As his eyes traced a path over the gentle curves he had run his fingertips over so tenderly the night before he couldn't help but think to himself that beside him lay the most beautiful woman he had ever lay his eyes upon; albeit one who tried so hard to hide the delicate beauty that he had seen so clearly from the moment she had walked the Holby wards make-up less under much duress all those months before when a patient had reacted to it...a beauty that he had never forgotten even during the months that he had been with Sunil and away from her. She was a lot more vulnerable than anyone knew, but during the day and night previously and for fleeting moments in times gone by she had let him and only him see it. He guessed they were two peas in a pod that way, hiding beneath a well-built facade until those times that the cracks opened up enough for someone to see through them. It just happened that more often than not, those someone's were each other.

Last night he had truly seen through her tough and nonchalant exterior...he had truly seen her because for the first time she had chosen let him in with no holds barred. Seeing her so vulnerable, seeing the beauty and fragility that she had so often hidden away with such clarity...it had done something to his heart that he couldn't explain leading both of them here to this moment, to their having given themselves to each other in a way so unexpected and yet which still felt so right. So often back home his heart had ached for her and he hadn't understood why, drawing the conclusion that it was because she was clearly the one woman in the hospital that he would never get...the woman who would never fall for his charms regardless of his intentions for once being completely pure. You always wanted what you couldn't have after all. Having her lay there beside him however he knew that this wasn't the reason at all. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, her beauty seeping into every pore of his being and making him feel truly alive for the first time in years...making him feel whole. This woman had a power over him that no other woman had held before and he felt for her with an intensity that he hadn't believed his heart capable of. That's why he knew what he was going to do next would haunt him forever and as he took her fingertips in his own and brought them to his lips, kissing them softly and whispering his apologies, a pain shot through his heart and tore at his soul. Feeling guiltier than he had ever felt he carefully climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes, taking one last look at the sleeping woman who had last night given him everything and committing her breath-taking beauty to his memory as he walked to her bedroom door.

"You are exquisite Frieda Petrenko." He whispered gently, his voice cracking with emotion as his heart screamed at him to go back to her... to pull her closely to him and never let her go again. As it tried to alert him to the fact that what he felt for her was so much more profound than what he had ever felt for anyone else and that for her he would never allow himself to stray. But fear that he would hurt something so precious overtook him...fear that he would destroy the woman who exuded such strength and passion that he couldn't bear to cause damage to it. Instead of going back to her he turned around and left the room and her behind him, creeping quietly out of the house that Elliot had left hours before into the brisk morning air. Little did he know that his departure from the bed had awoken her from her slumber; her breath catching in her throat as she saw him walk out of that door and away from what they had shared. Nor did he see the single tear rolling down her cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

Shivering, he made his way back to the hotel, choosing to walk instead of taking transport as a means of punishing himself for what he had done on what would be Christmas morning back home. He found his thoughts turning to the previous night as he did so...to how they had found themselves in bed together making love until the early hours when both had fallen asleep holding on to each other. He remembered that they had been drinking, but that neither had had enough for their judgement to be impaired, it had just felt natural...right somehow for things to progress as they had done. Elliot had gone back to the hotel for an early night, expecting Michael to soon follow behind him, while Frieda's mother had gone to bed, tired after entertaining the two guests. He and Frieda meanwhile stayed in the living room talking comfortably and catching up on what had been going on in their lives whilst they had been apart until Frieda had abruptly gone upstairs. When the clock struck midnight and she didn't come back down worry had hit him and he decided to follow her earlier path to see if she was okay. It was then that he heard sobbing coming from behind a half open bedroom door, a bedroom that upon inspection he found was hers; for through a gap where the door had been left ajar, he saw her perched on the edge of her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and more pain etched onto her face than he ever cared to see on anybody's.

He had stood there for a couple of minutes not knowing what to do. He'd never been good with crying women and he certainly wasn't sure that a woman as strong willed and independent as Frieda would ever want to know or acknowledge that he had seen her in such a fragile state. When the sobs continued to come thick and fast however and showed no signs of subsiding he knocked gently on the door, entering before she had any chance to tell him to leave and closing it behind him so as not to disturb her mother. He immediately walked over to her and sat down at her side, pulling her close to him as hot tears fell; her make up running as she cried and making even more apparent the natural beauty beneath it.

They had sat there for at least half an hour, Frieda crying and Michael not knowing why but holding her regardless, unable to bear seeing such a stunning creature in so much pain. His lips had subconsciously found the soft skin of her forehead as her body convulsed in his arms but instead of pulling away when they did so she had just held more tightly on to him, as if he was her only anchor in a stormy ocean. When the sobs finally subsided she had looked up at him with tear stained and rosy cheeks, her face full of fear that she had crossed some invisible line and that he had seen her in a way that she never allowed people to see, preventing him from ever being able to look at her the same way again. She had quickly walked away from him at that moment and over to her nightstand, roughly rubbing off the smudged make up as if to punish herself for being so weak; trying her hardest to distance herself from the man who had already that day seen her at her lowest ebb and heard one of her deepest secrets. She had even picked up her make up again, ready to put back on the mask that only once before he had seen her without, but the minute she had he had walked to her side, taking the cosmetic bag off her and placing it back on her nightstand, his fingertips then entwining in her own.

"You don't need it." He had told her softly, tracing his thumb over a still glistening tear track and leading her gently back to the bed. "You know you can talk to me." He assured her as they sat down in silence, the only sound the rhythmic ticking of a clock emanating from the hallway.

"I'm big girl you know. I not need to talk about everything. I take care of myself." She had snapped, unable to bring her still tearful eyes to meet his.

"I don't doubt that, but you don't have to. I found you up here in tears Petrenko, so spill. You've already told me about Lev, why not tell me what else has got your goat while we're on a roll? I'm not gonna judge you." He then told her softly, unable to suppress a smile at Frieda's puzzled expression regarding his choice of phrase.

"And you care why?" Frieda had asked him sharply, snatching her hand away from his. "You nice to me today because you need my help. You listen to me talk about Lev because it helped you get your own way. Do not pretend you care."

Michael sighed, feeling guilty that his past lack of judgement in so many situations and considerable character flaws - which of course Frieda and most of the hospital had been privy to - were preventing the young woman at his side from being able to acknowledge any sincerity in his words. Of course he cared, he wouldn't have been sat there trying to get her to talk to him if he didn't…he wouldn't be trying to get her to see that under her usual mask of heavy makeup he had for a long time now been aware of the beautiful woman that she was. He had been a womaniser, he knew it and she knew it, and he didn't blame her for not truly trusting in him. If the situation was reversed he wouldn't trust him either. The truth was, her hurting was incredibly painful for him and he would do anything to make it better for her. There was something about her that he was drawn to and he was drawn to her more than he had ever been drawn to anyone. For her he had begun to realise that he would do anything, even those things that he had never been brave enough to do for any woman before her.

"Of course I care." He had replied tiredly, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "You're part of the original Team Spence." He had added, his thoughts drifting back to the days when he, Frieda and Penny had worked together before she had been cruelly taken from them whilst saving a patient's life.

Frieda had rolled her eyes, still staring sullenly at the wall as she appeared completely nonplussed by his words.

"Fine." He had told her with a sigh, raising his hands in defeat. "I did need your help and that was part of the reason I wanted you to talk to me, because I needed you in theatre." He admitted.

Frieda had opened her mouth to undoubtedly respond with a witty retort.

"But I also wanted you to talk to me because…because you disappeared. You disappeared from Holby…from my…from all of our lives without any word. Do you have any idea how worried I…we've all been about you? You're part of our family and you just up and left. When I saw you here and saw that something was hurting you…if talking about it was going to get you into that theatre then I was happy about it because you Miss Petrenko are an excellent Doctor…but if it was going to help you…and help bring you home to…us…then that I was even happier about."

"Whatever." She had replied trying to feign nonchalance, but he could hear the emotion lacing her voice.

Again they had sat there in silence, the only sounds permeating the heavy atmosphere the ticking of the clock in the hallway and the steady beating of their hearts. Feeling as if trying to get to the bottom of her upset was a lost cause Michael sighed and again rubbed his tired eyes.

"Okay, I can take a hint. You don't wanna talk and you want to deal with this alone. It's fine. I'll go. Thank your mother for dinner." He had told her quietly, it paining him to leave her sitting there hurting but knowing that if she didn't want to talk to him then he couldn't force her.

He had gotten up and walked to her bedroom door, opening it and then pausing.

"Just one thing though. Do you really think that it would have been so easy for me to come to Ukraine if it wasn't for the fact that you were here? Merry Christmas Frieda."

He quietly left the room then, making his way through the house and out of the front door into the brisk evening air. He heard her voice call out behind him…

"Wait."

He had turned around to see Frieda stood on the front doorstep, her arms wrapped around herself to protect her body from the cold.

"I loved her. Valentine…I…I loved her and this is first Christmas without her…without my father. Without two of people I love most." She had shouted tearfully behind him. She sunk down onto the cold pavement; her head in her hands.

"You're into chicks?" He had asked her quietly, walking back over to her and once again settling himself at her side.

"That what you get from my heartfelt declaration?" Frieda had teased with her eyebrows raised.

He felt his cheeks begin to burn with a blush and she had smiled in response. She had such a stunning smile he had thought.

"I believe love is fluid. You fall in love with who you fall in love with…man or woman." Frieda had explained and whereas seconds before he had felt that unexpected hope that had so recently settled itself in his heart die away he once again felt it flicker to life.

"Penny…she was first woman I ever really care about. She infuriate me sure but she was just…she made it her personal mission to see that I not alone. That I happy. That I had friend. She beautiful hearted person."

"She was." He had agreed.

"I never told her how I felt. I not really realise it…want to admit it…" She had then corrected, "Until she took time off and I realise…how much I miss her. How much I need her in my life. I pretend I don't for long, long time, but I did. I always did. I try to phone her when she away…to call at her flat so that I could talk to her but she not there and…then when she came back and I was going to tell her the train crash and she…"

Michael had looked at the floor.

"We didn't even realise. She die and we not know. We came back without her while she lay dying somewhere and I never forgiven myself."

"Nor have I." He had admitted truthfully, the guilt of leaving Penny behind and alone during her last moments still eating him alive every day.

"I imagine she love Christmas. I imagine she one of those irritating people so full of Christmas spirit. I come here when Lev get sick and I think how I would have like to share it with her. How worried I am for him…my friends…where I from…the beauty of my Country. Instead she gone…this beautiful, innocent, sweet person gone just like that, and she never know how I feel."

He had wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closely to him, his lips again finding their way to the top of her head and kissing her hair gently.

"She might have known. She cared about you an awful lot Petrenko. Anyone could see that. She went out of her way to get to know you. She lit up when you were around her."

"She die alone. All alone. She not deserve that. She should be here." Frieda had told him tearfully and his heart ached for her. "She should be brightening up the ward, humming Christmas carols and trying to get Hanssen to stop being Grinch. She should be with me…not…"

"I know." He whispered into her hair.

"With Penny gone this year and my father…sometimes…I feel like I have no-one." She had admitted, burying her head against his chest in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability.

"That I can relate to." He had replied with a sigh and she looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"I've made mistakes too Petrenko. Too many to count. I had a wife, I had my children and I screwed it up with my roving eye…"

"And lack of ability to keep it in your pants?" Frieda had offered and he couldn't help but smile at her observation.

"Now Ric has my wife and children and me…I have a hotel room that I'm sharing with Elliot, a pair of too short hand me down pyjamas and numerous pairs of swimming trunks with no hot weather to wear them in."

"That so awful." Frieda had replied with a ghost of a smile forming on her lips.

"I know, right…" He told her, a smile forming on his lips in response "but that's my fault Petrenko and mine alone. Family is the most important thing that a person can have and I let it go. Penny dying… that wasn't your fault and you weren't to know that you didn't have much time left with her. No one can ever know what time they've got left with the people that they love."

"Christmas sucks." Frieda had commented, pulling her knees to her chest and sighing.

"Oh I don't know. It's not so bad." He had replied; his gaze falling upon the woman sat shivering beside him, her body silhouetted under the glow of the moonlight which gave her an almost ethereal glow.

She had looked up at him then, her eyes sparkling and her expression somewhat shy.

"Thank you." She had whispered, her fingertips this time finding his.

"Anytime." He had replied, giving her hand a squeeze. "I should probably…." He then started, getting up from the spot on which he was sitting and motioning out into the night.

Frieda had nodded, removing her hand from his and wrapping her arms around herself.

"You're not alone." He had then told her sincerely, gingerly reaching out and pushing a stray strand of hair away from her piercing green eyes as his lips met hers; the first of many kisses they had shared that night as a deeply buried longing overcame them both. That longing had led to his waking in bed next to her moments before, memories of the prior evening still fresh as his eyes traced over the contours of her flawless body, mesmerised by the beauty that she so naturally possessed. Unfortunately it was a bed that he had ultimately left behind without a word to the woman still occupying it, something that was already filling his heart with regret.

"_You're not alone."_


	3. Chapter 3

It had been four weeks since that Christmas night back in the Ukraine and Michael had been amazed at how little he had seen Frieda in that time, particularly considering that she had been back at work long before he had and that he had done his utmost to spend time on AAU, hoping that he could talk to her and explain the actions he now deemed despicable. When he had gotten back to the hotel after leaving her bed Elliot had immediately guessed what had happened and chastised him for taking advantage of someone who was so vulnerable, not only after losing her father but after having run back home to face such a difficult period of her past. It was only when Michael had rather tearfully - much to his embarrassment - buried his head in his hands and admitted that he cared about her that Elliot had softened, asking why ever he had thought it best that he leave someone like that when they were the one person who had garnered more emotion out of Michael Spence than he had ever seen?

"Because all I do is hurt people. She is the last person I want to hurt." He had replied.

"Do you not think you've already done that? And rather epically I might add?"

"Elliot…"

"She cares about you too." Elliot had commented. "And you left her there like every other woman that you've used."

Those words had replayed over and over in his head in the time that had passed since that conversation. He had once, before catching his plane home, even gone back to Frieda's to try and make things right and to explain that she wasn't just another one night stand no matter how he had made it look but he hadn't been able to bring himself to knock on the door. He had screwed up, he knew that he had, and by trying to protect her he had probably made her feel of so little value and so little concern to him that every word that came out of his mouth in the moments leading up to their making love seemed like a lie. Truth be told those had been the most honest moments of his life, spent with a woman he could never imagine wanting to stray from. Spending the night with her…it had felt right and so different to any meaningless fling he had ever had before, but he had walked out on her, the woman that he had grown to love and it had taken the words of Holby's lovable eccentric to knock the sense back into him that had evaporated with the arrival of dawn on that cold Christmas Day.

After sulkily consulting with Luc Hemingway regarding a patient, his eyes on a constant but once again futile alert for any sign of the sharp tongued goth who had stolen his heart, Michael made his way to the wards Reception desk, slumping in a chair and heaving a heavy sigh.

"Feeling guilty are we?" Came a voice from beside him, and he turned to see Eddi glaring at him, her hands on her hips in a defensive stance.

Michael opened his mouth to speak but was immediately silenced by her formidable death stare.

"And so you should be, doing that to her. She's a mess!" Eddi continued angrily, ignoring a look of warning from Luc who had sidled his way over to the pair in preparation for becoming their referee.

"I…"

"Nu-uh. You don't get to make excuses for your actions. You're all the same you lot! Forget about your brains being in your heads…oh no, they're down there aren't they…" She mused loudly garnering sniggers of amusement from her colleagues.

"Nurse McKee…" Luc scolded.

"No Luc. You've seen her." She told him softly, still looking at Michael sharply but her voice filled with worry for her friend. "She spends most of her shifts trying to avoid him because he won't leave this ward alone and she's pale as anything…"

"That's hardly anything new." Luc responded.

"Okay then…she's super pale. Not to mention the vomiting…"

"The what?" He asked; worry filling him when Eddi's words registered in his brain.

"Oh stop trying to act concerned. If you ask me she could do a hell of a lot better than you anyway." Eddi spat.

"That enough!"

Both Eddi and Michael turned around to face the person whom the voice belonged to and Michael was shocked to say the least when his gaze fell upon the normally so vibrant Frieda, for there she was standing completely void of make up with a face almost as pale as the bed sheets. His heart began to beat at what felt like twice its normal speed as their eyes met and he really looked at her for the first time since he had left her behind in Ukraine.

"I appreciate concern but is it not my job to verbally batter him rather than yours?" She asked her friend, crossing her arms as if to protect herself from him; a gesture which pained him a great deal…almost as much as her forlorn and sickly appearance.

"I'm just telling it like it is." Eddi replied, still eyeing up Michael suspiciously.

"Why not go and tell Mr Gordon that if he keep trying to pull his catheter out he going to end up with more than swollen ankles?" Frieda prompted, her gaze falling to an agitated patient on the far side of the ward.

"Fine, but if _he_ upsets you…" Eddi started, pointing an accusing finger at Michael. "Then he may be the one needing a catheter."

As Eddi walked away, Frieda sighed and lowered herself onto the seat next to him.

"I have to say I'm feeling a little scared right now." He commented, Frieda rolling her eyes as Eddi continued to watch them regardless of Luc's best efforts to give her tasks to keep her occupied.

"You should be. I don't doubt that she would do it." Frieda told him at first completely seriously but a dimpled smile then appearing on her delicate features which both warmed his heart and made it ache at the same time.

"You look like hell Petrenko." He told her after a pause, reaching out a hand and gently placing it over her forehead to feel for a temperature.

"Erm, you are doing this why? I not one of your children." She pointed out mildly amused, then swatting his hand away.

"No, but something's not right here is it?" He asked her quietly, his suspicions' confirmed when she looked at the floor. "Eddi said you've been nauseous." He pushed; his guilt eating away at him every second he looked at her and noticed more and more how tired and drawn she seemed to be.

"It nothing." Frieda responded tiredly. "Something I ate that all." She then added, quickly getting up from the chair on which she was sitting and preparing to make a hasty retreat.

"Don't run away Frieda. I'm trying here…I've been trying since I got back."

He reached out and gently placed a hand on her arm.

"Don't run? That rich coming from you." She responded sharply, moving her arm as if to pull it away from his grip but stopping; his fingertips lingering upon her skin.

"Okay, so I deserved that. I was a tool and I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I regret what I did." He tried to explain, knowing that he deserved her anger but it still paining him nonetheless.

"I think my waking up and finding you gone shows exactly how much you regretted what you did."

"I was scared Frieda okay!" He shouted, his cheeks turning crimson as everyone on the ward either stopped talking or froze. "I was scared that if I stayed…if I carried on acting on what I feel for you…that I'd just screw things up." He added more quietly, his heart jumping into his throat when he noticed her eyes filling with tears.

"So you trying to protect me."

"Exactly." He told her softly, leading her away from prying eyes and ears and into the corridor. "I don't regret what we did at all. That wasn't the reason I left. What we had…it was…it meant more to me than some meaningless fling."

Frieda stood studying him silently, her arms crossed and her eyes narrow.

"What I regret is walking out on you…leaving you lying there like that…"

"Oh please." She snapped, her body rocking gently where she stood. She reached out to the wall for support, resting her head on her outstretched arm.

He immediately moved closer to her, his hand resting on the small of her back and rubbing it in circular motions as she took a deep breath.

She jerked her body away from his touch.

"You say you feel something for me Mr Spence? That I not one of your meaningless flings? Well what you did hurt me more than any failing relationship could have. What you saying is a joke. You are a joke! I should never…we should never…you will never be anything more than womanizer and I just stupid enough…just sad enough to fall for it." She told him tearfully, walking back to the AAU doors.

"At least let me check you over." He begged, hating to see her suffering and hating that he may be the cause of it.

"I have own Doctor to do that. Just leave me alone." She pleaded, taking a deep breath as if to brace herself for what she knew would be many questions on the ward and leaving him a lone figure in the corridor pondering just how foolish he had been.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been five days since his emotional meeting with Frieda and once again he had barely seen her around the hospital. Irrespective of his best efforts to cross paths with her during his frequent visits to AAU – many of which he had found himself being reprimanded for by Hanssen – she had often been nowhere to be seen, causing him to become a great source of amusement for those working on the ward, who he heard had been taking bets as to how many times he would venture onto their turf on a specific day. He also seemed to have earned the nickname 'puppy dog.'

He knew that she didn't want to see him or talk to him. She had told him as much the last time that they had spoken and had gone out of her away since their arrival back at Holby to avoid him, which though he completely understood still hurt him greatly, particularly as he had come to realise that regardless of his fear she was someone he didn't want to be apart from at all, even if it meant committing himself completely to a woman for the first time in his life. Still, he found himself thinking about her almost every second of every day that passed; her pale face etched as deeply into his mind as their night together and worry prickling at his heart. He couldn't walk away for good until he knew that she was okay and he most certainly couldn't do it until he had given righting his wrongs one more shot. If she then wanted him to leave her alone he would do it completely, but he couldn't knowing that he had made a mistake and not taken every opportunity that he possibly could to make her see that he was so very deeply sorry for it.

Sighing he cradled the cooling cup of coffee in his hands, his eyes stinging and weary with the tiredness that weeks of regret had caused him. He didn't even see the figure come towards him, so caught up was he in his own thoughts. It was only when the table wobbled as a fresh pair of elbows settled themselves upon it that he looked up to see an equally weary head resting upon folded arms and stunning green eyes looking deeply into his brown ones. Looking pale but as beautiful as he had ever seen her was Frieda Petrenko, her long dark hair pulled into a messy, and red streaked bun, with its loose strands accentuating her exotic features and making him want to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

"You're a sight for sore eyes." He told her softly, his eyes studying every inch of her as he settled back into his chair and narrowing when he noticed that she seemed afraid of something. Could it be that she was scared of him? "You're trembling." He noted, reaching out as if to take her hand in his own but stopping himself at the last minute. He didn't after all want to push her away after she had made the effort to seek him out.

"I just a little cold." She replied, wrapping her arms around herself and looking down at the table, unable to bring her eyes to meet his.

"Then I'm gonna get you a coffee. See if we can warm you up a little." He told her, lifting himself up out of his chair and walking around the table to her side, before pulling off his cardigan and wrapping it carefully around her trembling form.

"No coffee. Tea maybe?" She asked him softly, looking up at him and giving him a nervous yet dimpled smile as she pulled the cardigan tighter around herself, the warmth of the soft wool providing some much needed comfort.

He nodded, walking over to the coffee shop counter and ordering her drink, keeping watch over her as he waited for fear that if he should turn away she would once again disappear.

"One tea." He told her a few moments later, setting it down on the table in front of her and then settling back down into his seat, watching as she took the cup in her hands and absentmindedly began to pick at it. He couldn't help but feel relieved that she hadn't made a run for it when she had the chance.

"Thank you." She responded quietly, taking a deep breath and resting a hand over her stomach. "Coffee make me want to hurl at moment." She explained with a sigh.

"That's some bug you got."

She nodded, her cheeks reddening as her gaze met his. She really did look absolutely terrified.

"I need talk to you." She told him, her voice breaking a little as she spoke.

He propped his chin up on his elbows, never taking his eyes off her face.

"Then shoot. I'm all ears." He said as softly as he could, feeling completely perplexed by her sudden arrival back into his life after days of her shutting herself out of it.

"I don't know how to….I don't know where to…"

As she struggled to find the words Michael once again got out of his chair and moved to her side, kneeling on the floor and taking one of her hands in his own regardless of who saw him. He was past caring what anyone else thought of him, particularly when it came to her….particularly when he was so damn worried about her wellbeing.

"Take your time." He told her, tracing circular patterns on the back of her hand with his thumb. Frieda wasn't sure if the sensation of slight callouses gently running over her softer skin were comforting or irritating, helpful or hindering.

"I…"

Frieda sighed with frustration as she struggled, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes as she slumped even further back into her chair.

"Why can't I say it?" She commented. "Just say it!" She scolded herself, looking up at the ceiling. "Michael…I…" She began only to be cut off by his pager bleeping.

"It's okay. Tell me." He pleaded, so desperate to hear what she had to say to him, good or bad.

"I…"

His pager bleeped again.

"Dammit." He muttered as he studied it. "Frieda…"

"Go. It okay…" She told him quietly, her hand shaking in his.

"Tell me. Please…" He begged. "It can wait."

Frieda shook her head.

"This can wait. Little while at least. Patient can't." She replied and he could tell that she had lost her nerve.

Frieda let go of his hand and lifted herself up off the chair, her untouched tea still sitting on the table. She winced as his pager bleeped again and he silently cursed it for ruining a moment that was obviously so important to her.

"I'll find you." He promised her as his pager continued to bleep, him having no choice but to once again walk away when she needed him. Again he didn't see the tear roll down his cheek, or realise that his whole world was about to turn upside down face.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been forty minutes ago that he had left her in the coffee shop, and those forty minutes had seen his conscience eating away at him every second that he was at the consult he had been called to. Every day he regretted what he had done in Ukraine more and more, because if he hadn't just walked away from her she wouldn't have felt the need to avoid him for so long, nor to have to seek him out at work to talk to him about something so obviously troubling her. Instead should the night have meant as much to her as it did to him, regardless of him stupidly screwing things up as he had done now, he would have made every effort to show her what she meant to him; how he'd quite happily spend the rest of his days with her if he could because she was the spark that had been missing in his life for as long as he could remember. Maybe then she would have been able to speak to him a lot more easily than she had moments ago, somewhere outside of work where she was more comfortable. Maybe then she wouldn't have been so absolutely terrified to say what she needed to say, nor have looked like she was going to burst into tears as she had done so many times lately, because of him. Because of the mistake he made leaving her behind. Things should have been so different between them, although he knew it all would have depended on her feelings for him as well as his for her because regardless of what Elliot had told him she may not care about him the same way that he did for her at all. Now they were both paying the price for his error and sadly Frieda appeared to be paying for it most of all.

Sullenly he made his way along the hospital corridors to AAU, his mind buzzing as he thought about what it could possibly be that she had been trying to tell him; it obviously something that had sent her into a total panic. All he could think of was getting to her and at that moment in time he couldn't care less about any stupid nickname that their colleagues had come up with for him, nor the telling off that he would surely earn himself from Hanssen for neglecting his duties once again. All that concerned him was her. How this had happened to him he had no idea. When she had become the centre of his world he couldn't possibly say, but there she was firmly planted there and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it except admit defeat and try his hardest to make her the one permanent fixture in his life.

The minute he stepped through the AAU doors, he knew that something was incredibly wrong on the ward. Instead of the usual hustle and bustle that came with acute assessment, everyone was frozen into place and it was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Luc standing at the Reception desk with his hands in the air as if surrendering to someone, Eddi frozen behind him and the sobbing of some of the wards patients beginning to punctuate the silence. Moving quietly from his position near the door so that he could better see what his colleagues and now he was dealing with, he felt his heart begin to pound in his chest for stood there opposite him was Frieda, being held roughly around the waist by an irate man whom he assumed was a patient. It was then that Michael noticed a scalpel clasped tightly in the man's fist.

"You don't have to do this Peter." Luc offered calmly, trying to diffuse the situation before it became truly dire.

"Like hell I don't." The man snapped. "My son's going to kill himself if someone doesn't give me those drugs."

"You know we can't do that." Luc answered gently, his shaking hands betraying his steady voice as his eyes watched Frieda struggle against her captor.

"You will or she gets hurt." Peter replied, tightening his grip around Frieda's waist, the scalpel perilously close to her scrubs.

"Peter please. You can't help son if you in prison. You need to let me go and we talk about this." Frieda told the man, trying her hardest to pry his vice like arms away from her stomach; her eyes watering with unshed tears.

"You girly are my bargaining chip. I'm not letting you go until I get what I want. Understand?" He told her coolly, pressing the scalpel against her stomach not enough to cut her but enough to slice clean through her scrub top. "I'll dig a little deeper if you don't humour me." The man shouted, a smirk appearing on his lips. "And don't think I'm kidding. You don't think I'm kidding do you?" He asked Frieda, who had now begun to sob.

Anger began to course through Michael as did a level of fear that he had never felt before in his life. That fear compounded as he heard security moving behind the door, Eddi having managed to alert them on the phone to the dire situation they were now facing while Frieda had drawn the man's attention to her and away from the desk. As Peters gaze moved to the source of the sound, his grip on Frieda tightened further and her face paled as cold metal slid across her olive skin; the man knowing that his plan was unravelling.

"I'm with child. Please! I pregnant…" She shouted tearfully, her eyes for the first time meeting his and widening in shock as she realised that he now knew about the baby she had just an hour ago been trying to make him aware of privately. "Don't hurt three people in this room today. Let me go…" She begged, trying desperately to pull his arm away from her belly, her green eyes never leaving Michael's brown ones.

"You joking? Why settle for mummy when I can have baby too?" Peter asked and when Michael noted the blood beginning to pool between her legs in addition to that dripping from her stomach wound; blood that signified that the baby he had created with her was being lost just moments after he found out about its existence, he launched himself across AAU, landing on top of the man who was attempting to destroy all that he held dear.

Frieda, Peter and himself all fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs as the scalpel slid away.

"You're pregnant?" He whispered softly to the fallen Frieda as security burst in and jumped on the man; a searing pain in his head suddenly registering as he reached out for her hand.

"I was." She replied tearfully, entwining his fingers in her now bloody ones and trembling hard as she considered what that blood meant for her child.

"So….sorry Frieda…For being such a jerk…." He slurred quietly as his eyes began to close. He wished so much that he could comfort her.

"As am I." He heard her reply just before his world went black.


	6. Chapter 6

The first thing he became aware of as he came around was the pain in his head, both searing and thumping at the same time, as he tried to piece together those dramatic moments before he had lost consciousness. He reached up a shaking hand to trace the source of the pain, feeling butterfly stitches under his fingertips which when touched made him wince. He opened his eyes, blinking them into focus as he took in his surroundings; blue curtains closed around the bed on which he was now laying and a cleaner's mop visibly swishing backwards and forwards underneath it. He wanted to vomit when he realised what that mop was frantically trying to eradicate. It was a pool of blood…her blood.

"Frieda…?" He whispered; his eyes darting around the cubicle as fear swelled in his chest. "Frieda!" He shouted more desperately, his heart pounding against his rib cage when she didn't answer his call.

Slowly he lifted himself up from his prone position, the whole world spinning as he moved which caused him to rock involuntarily where he sat. As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, readying himself to stand, he felt a hand on his chest gently push him back down.

"You have a concussion. You need to take it easy."

"You try taking it easy when you see the woman carrying your kid being held hostage and haemorrhaging in the middle of the ward." He snapped; opening his eyes to see Luc sat in the chair beside his bed, a worried expression so apparent on his face. "Where is she?" Michael asked angrily, looking to the man for answers. "Where the hell is she?" He asked again, the commotion outside the curtains now becoming deathly quiet.

"She's been taken to maternity." Luc replied simply, his gaze falling to the floor. "There was a lot of blood and when you passed out, she was in a lot of pain. Some was from the stomach wound which required a number of stitches. The rest…"

Luc's voice drifted off and Michael felt his heart sink.

"I didn't even know." Michael told him softly, playing with a loose strand of cotton on the bed sheets as he thought of her stood there, begging for their child's life. "She was going to tell me this morning and I got paged…she didn't get the chance. If I'd have stayed…if she'd been there a little while longer…this…it might not have happened...to her."

"You can't blame yourself for this." Luc tried to reassure him, placing a hand on his arm.

"I can't blame anyone else." Michael replied and he could feel hot tears burning behind his eyes. "Do you have any news? About her? About her…our kid?" He asked softly; almost afraid to hear the answer.

Luc shook his head.

"Eddi's with her. She hasn't been in touch yet." He explained and Michael nodded, closing his eyes as he tried his hardest to fight against tears that came with utter helplessness.

"I need to see her." He told the man sat beside him, once again pushing himself up off the bed, wanting nothing more than to see her with his own eyes and reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

Luc again tried to push him back down.

"You need to rest."

"She told the whole ward she was pregnant. She bled out in front of them. I need to be with her." Michael argued, shakily standing up.

"You're really in no fit state to go to her Michael."

"Please…" Michael pleaded, barely recognising the voice so full of fear that came out of his mouth. "Please…" He then begged more quietly, gripping onto the gurney as he studied his colleague's expression.

Luc shook his head and was once again about to argue when he pair were interrupted by the curtains being pushed aside and Hanssen strolling into the cubicle, surveying the scene in front of him with inquisitive eyes.

"Mr Hemmingway. Take our dear Mr Spence to maternity and advise the nurses there to monitor his condition. He's in no fit state to operate today. Then I'll need you and Nurse McKee to try and return this ward to some semblance of normality. I will supervise the department until you get back."

Luc nodded, leaving the two men as he went to get a chair.

"I know I shouldn't have been here. I…" Michael began desperately, but Hanssen held up a hand to silence him.

"Sometimes our best intentions cause us to make our biggest mistakes." He told Michael cryptically, studying the butterfly stitches on his forehead and nodding with satisfaction.

"What happened today to Dr Petrenko is both tragic and unfortunate. I'm very sorry about your child." He then added, leaving the cubicle and a broken man behind him…a man who finally gave in to his tears.


	7. Chapter 7

Carefully he opened the door to her room in maternity, his hands trembling as he pushed against the wood and his legs feeling like jelly underneath him. Luc was waiting for Eddi in the corridor, the wheelchair which Michael had refused to sit in any longer now deserted at his side. As soon as he had arrived through those doors an intense desire to be at Frieda's side had overcome him, the feeling compounded when he spoke to the consultant in charge of her care. Michael had immediately made him aware of his role as the unborn child's father and hot tears had welled up behind his eyes as his colleague had broken the news to him that the stress and trauma she had suffered on AAU had indeed caused her to miscarry the baby conceived at Christmas in Ukraine.

All he found he had been able to think of as the man spoke, was that all that time they had been tiptoeing around each other since he arrived back at the hospital she had been carrying his child. He couldn't help but think how unfair it was that he had found out about its existence along with the rest of AAU just moments before it was gone. He wondered how it had been for Frieda, coming to realise that she was pregnant…whether she wanted to keep the baby or if it was something else that she had considered running away from. All he knew was that he had screwed up; he had driven her away in his desertion of her and left her pregnant and alone. How he could ever make things right after this was anyone's guess.

Gingerly he took a step into the small room, closing the door quietly behind him and walking as steadily as he could over to her bed. He eyed Eddi wearily as he made his approach, unwilling to participate in any more arguments with the woman sat protectively at Frieda's side, a woman watching him now with both curiosity and sympathy in her eyes.

"She's asleep now. She's had her stomach wound stitched and bandaged, a scan to check for any internal damage, an ultrasound…she's really been through it." Eddi told him with a sigh.

"And I wasn't around again." Michael replied softly, settling himself on the side of the bed and looking down at the sleeping figure who occupied it. She looked so vulnerable. He couldn't get over how much. He reached out a hand and ran it over her cheek.

"You were completely out of it when we brought her up here. What you did for her….probably saved her from injuries which would have been a lot worse. You were hurt helping her…"

"She never should have been in that position in the first place. None of the last few weeks should have happened the way that they did." He admitted sadly, his voice breaking. "I should have been here…" He told her.

"You really didn't want to be." Eddi told him tearfully and for the first time he could see how the afternoon's events had affected her too. "She only found out about the baby three days ago and now…"

Michael looked at the floor, Eddi's quiet sobbing and Frieda's steady breathing the only sounds punctuating the silence.

"She wanted it you know." Eddi told him, taking one of Frieda's hands in her own.

He turned around to face the young woman who had fast become Frieda's best friend, glad of some insight into the mindset of the woman that he loved.

"She wasn't sure at first but when I spoke to her earlier…just before he…she told me that she was going to have it. She said that she'd spoken to you but I got the impression that you found out about the baby when Peter did."

"Please don't say his name to me." Michael pleaded, unable to bear thinking about the man. "But yeah. I didn't know. Not until…"

A hot tear rolled down his cheek and he cursed himself for being unable to control his emotions in front of Holby's queen of banter.

"I thought you'd decided together what to do. I thought she'd told you. I dunno. Something must have made up her mind…"

"She tried to tell me just this morning. I got called away. I always seem to leave her when she needs me most and geez do I end up regretting it." He told Eddi guiltily, rubbing his tired eyes.

"You care about her." Eddi stated bluntly and he found himself unable to meet her gaze; his cheeks flushing red as he took hold of Frieda's other hand. "I thought that she was just another conquest that you wanted to make things sweet with to protect your reputation, but she isn't is she?"

Michael shook his head.

"No she's not." He said softly, tracing his still shaking fingertips in gentle patterns up her arm. "You know, all I've been trying to do since I got back was make things right between us. All I wanted was for her to know how much she means to me and how awful I feel for leaving her like I did. Now… Now I don't even know how to begin to make things right."

"You just have to be there for her. She's gonna need you." Eddi told him, Michael completely unable to tear his eyes away from the sleeping figure on the bed…from the wounded belly that had just hours earlier had held his child.

"How could she possibly still need me after this? Look at her." He whispered noting the sheer paleness of Frieda's face and the now dry tear tracks on her cheeks.

"How could she not?" Eddi replied simply. "When you were the one she was calling for the whole time she was losing that baby?"

The pair were interrupted by a knock on the door and turned around to see Luc's face peering around its wooden frame.

"Eddi we have to get back." He told the young woman softly, before once again leaving the room and the pair alone.

"I'm glad you were with her. I'm glad she wasn't alone." He admitted honestly.

Eddi walked around the bed and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You love her? You make sure she isn't alone again okay? Or I will hurt you." She offered with a slight smirk before walking to the door. "Mr Spence?" She then asked a little timidly.

Michael turned to face her, his vision blurring slightly with the motion.

"Would you have wanted it? You say you want her…but would you have wanted the baby too?"

Michael thought hard for a moment, his mind flashing back to those moments on AAU when Frieda had told Peter about the baby, pleading for its life and begging for neither it, its mother or its father to be hurt. It was then that he realised just how much he was hurting, not only because she was injured and suffering but because for one blissful second he once again had the promise of a family, only for it to be so cruelly stolen away just moments later. He had never felt pain like this in his life. Never had his heart feel like it was being ripped apart by hundreds of invisible shards of glass as it ached for the child that they would never know and the family that they would never be. He knew then that he would have wanted their unborn child. He would have wanted it just as much as he wanted her and he would have done anything to make their little family work.

"How could I not have wanted what would surely have been the most beautiful kid in Holby?" He asked her softly, his gaze then mournfully returning to the sleeping Frieda as they were finally given some peace.


	8. Chapter 8

He didn't know how long he had been sat there; one hand clinging helplessly on to hers as he watched her sleep and tried somehow to reassure himself that she was still with him…that everything would be okay. He knew that it must have been a few hours because the nurses had come and gone more times than he could count, checking on both his condition and hers, but still he hadn't been able to bring himself to move, not even a millimetre because he was so afraid that he would miss something. He was terrified that he once again wouldn't be by her side when she needed him….that she'd wake up and believe once again that she was alone.

Every moment that passed found him worrying more and more. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of state Frieda would be in when she woke up and how he could possibly be everything that she needed him to be when he had screwed things up so magnificently…when he too was hurting so much. She'd been poorly with early pregnancy symptoms without his being there to support her, she'd done the test without him being at her side, and the moment that she was going to tell him about the baby on her own terms he had been called away only for her to be forced to tell him in the situation that had ultimately cost them so much. He was so full of what ifs, and he cursed himself when he considered that if he hadn't been so scared, things could have been so totally different. They may have discovered the pregnancy earlier, they may have started to build a relationship together…maybe he would have been able to protect her from the thing that had now left her so wounded and broken. Instead he was left questioning his ability to care for her properly, because as much as he wanted to show her how much he cared…how much he actually thought he loved her…how could anyone get over something like this? Particularly when the person going through it with them hadn't been consistent in their actions at all.

"You're an idiot Spence." He whispered to no-one in particular, rubbing his tired eyes and stifling a yawn.

"I could have told you that." Came a hoarse reply from the bed and he was startled to see Frieda's beautiful green eyes open for the first time in hours.

He watched as she shakily moved a hand to her stomach and wince as she felt the bandaged wound that she had acquired. Her eyes glazed over as she remembered the hours prior to her waking in the stark maternity room.

"Oh god…" She moaned as her body convulsed with a sob.

"Hey. It's gonna be okay." He soothed, squeezing her hand as hard as he could to try and reassure her. "It's gonna be okay." He repeated, leaning over her and gently stroking her long hair away from her wet cheeks. He wanted so much to hold her … to kiss her forehead, anything to offer some comfort to her in that moment but he didn't dare. He didn't want to push things between them when they were already so fragile. Particularly when he had made them that way in the first place.

"How can you say that?" She asked him, completely distraught. "You have no idea what it was like to lose that baby."

He looked down at the bed sheets, knowing that she had a point.

"I know that I don't." He told her sadly, finding it almost unbearable to think of what she must have been through.

"I wanted to keep it." She admitted, looking down at her hands. "I not sure until today. It was when you gave me sweater…I dunno, I just…I saw caring side from Ukraine again. I decide then that I want our child and I want you to be involved in its life even if you not involved in mine. Now I just have scar where I should have bump and blood where there should be baby." She told him softly; her face paling even more than he thought it possibly could after all of the trauma and stress that she had suffered.

"I would have wanted it too." He admitted; laying himself down on the bed beside her and running his fingertips along her damp cheeks as she lifted up her head, letting him cradle it with his arm. "I would have been involved in both of your lives."

"I don't believe you." She whispered in response; turning her head away from him as tears spilled down her cheeks. "You already have family. Baby was mistake. How could you have wanted it?" She asked and he could hear the fear in her voice as she awaited his reply.

"Because it was ours." He told her simply, unable to stop himself from wondering what the baby would have looked like, whether it would have been a boy or a girl…what Frieda would have looked like carrying it.

"Oh yeah, because we are so important to you." She told him angrily. "So important that you tell me I not alone and then run away."

"I screwed up…" He began, his heart aching as he felt the anger that she held towards him.

"Yeah you did."

"And I've been trying to make it right. You're the one who's been avoiding me." He snapped, immediately cursing himself for losing his temper. She had every reason to be hurting right now and every right to be more emotionally wounded than he was. She didn't need him to argue with her. She needed his understanding and she needed answers.

"Because you hurt me! You humiliate me. You leave me pregnant…"

"And I wish I hadn't." He began, taken aback when her eyes flashed with anger. He realised that she may have misunderstood. "Hurt you or humiliated you. The baby….that was unexpected…but I'd never have wished it away…nor that night in Ukraine. That meant more to me than you could possibly know."

"Then why…" She asked him frustrated.

"Because I'm an idiot." He told her honestly and saw a small smile form on her lips. "What I told you the other day on AAU was true. I was trying to protect you from me. As much as I care…and I do care…" He reiterated, "I have a habit of hurting people and I was trying to protect you from my doing that. If our night together had led to something more…I just didn't want things to progress only for me to screw things…or you…up."

"So you decided to screw up anyway." She offered.

"Apparently." He sighed.

"Do you not think it my choice to decide what I want? Who I want? Who says I would have let you hurt me? I the one who keep you on your toes."

"I don't doubt that." He replied; giving her a warm smile as she once again turned her head to face him. "When he had hold of you Petrenko…I thought the bottom had dropped out of my world, I was that scared…and when you said about little Spence…"

"Little Spence?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.

He shrugged.

"You should not have found out like that. For that I sorry."

"Not your fault." He reassured her. "I would have known if it wasn't for that page. Besides you were trying to protect the kid. You had to do all you could to try to get him to stop for the baby's sake."

"Fat lot of good it did." Frieda replied, rubbing her stomach gently.

He placed a hand over hers, them resting entwined over the spot where their child would have been.

"For the record, I don't think I could hurt you again. It's not worth the pain. What I'm feeling right now about what I did to you, what happened to you…you losing the baby…it's awful. I'd want to do all I could to make you happy. To keep you in my life. Just so you know."

"I don't feel like I be happy again." She admitted.

"Tell me about it." He responded, feeling the same way himself.

He leaned over and gingerly kissed her on the forehead; wincing in pain as he did so, an expression that wasn't lost on Frieda.

"Your head…" She whispered; reaching up a shaking hand and tracing her fingertips over the butterfly stitches.

"It's nothing compared to what you've been through. Just a concussion."

"Still. Thank you. For what you did. For helping me and for trying to help child. I could be dead too if it wasn't for you." She told him, and he felt his stomach drop at the thought.

"I would do it again in a heartbeat." He reassured her, pulling her gently towards him as she once again broke down in tears. "I love you Angry Barbie." He whispered into her hair as her trembling hand clutched at his shirt. "You would have been such a great mom."

"I so wanted to protect baby Michael." She sobbed.

"I know you did. I know." He replied, wondering if he would ever earn her love back and even more if he would ever truly deserve it.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been four days since the attack on AAU; four horrendous days during which he had seen Frieda suffer tremendously, whether from being in the role of patient rather than Doctor or being stuck on maternity as she healed. Every day she had lay there she had been subjected to reminders of what she had lost, with mothers in labour passing her room as they prepared themselves to welcome their babies into the world, and babies crying all around her; her eyes filling with tears as she realised again that their babies cry would be something that she would never hear. As much as he could he had tried to comfort her, to reassure her that things would be okay again even if not completely as they were before…that he would be there at her side if she wanted him, a constant figure in her life instead of one that would up and leave when the going got tough. Still she was hurting more than any comfort he was giving could touch and the sense of helplessness he felt grew deeper the more intense her pain became. He too was suffering and it was taking all he had for him not to let himself break too. He had given all of himself to her to help her through this, but he couldn't help but wonder who would be there to help him.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he once again entered her room, having spent the morning working in plastics at a reduced capacity whilst trying to process recent events. Frieda again was tearful and he immediately walked over to the bed, perching himself on the side of it and taking her hand in his own.

"Hey there." He whispered softly, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing her knuckles tenderly. "You okay?" He asked as she looked at him with glistening green eyes.

"Silly question." She responded with a sigh, trying to pull herself up into a sitting position.

"Yeah. Sorry." He replied, placing her hand back down on the bed sheets and lifting himself up from where he sat. He settled himself down in the chair beside the bed, his head in his hands.

"Are you?" She then asked him softly, her voice curious and filled with concern. "You just…you been so busy taking care of me. You look so tired."

"I'm fine." He lied. "Let's just get you better okay? We'll worry about me later." He added, trying to give her his sunniest smile but he was sure that she saw straight through it.

Frieda nodded, scrutinising him carefully and he felt himself squirm under her steady gaze.

"I had argument with nurse today." She admitted as he looked down at his lap. "She want change bandage and for Doctor to check wound."

"It needs to be done Petrenko. You know that." He told her quietly, his eyes falling to her stomach; the bandage now peeping out from underneath her pyjama top rather than being covered by a hospital gown.

"I just…I feel more comfortable if…Would you do it?" She asked, unable to bring her eyes to meet his. "I can't bear thought of anyone else….please?" She begged.

"Frieda…" He whispered, unsure of how to respond.

"Please?" She pleaded again softly, and he could hear the desperation in her voice.

"Let me go clear it with your consultant." He told her, walking over to the bed and kissing her on the forehead, touched that she was finally reaching out to him somehow…that she trusted him above anyone else to take care of her.

Within minutes he was back with the relevant supplies, setting them down on the small table beside her bed before pulling on his gloves. She gave him a small smile as he did so and breathed a visible if not shaky sigh of relief.

"You sure you want me to do this?" He asked her quietly, studying her face for any indication that she had changed her mind.

"You seen me….before…you tell me…you tell me if it bad…if…it make you think less of me." She told him shyly, all the time holding back tears.

"It won't." He replied, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze regardless of his having yet to see the stomach wound for himself.

Carefully he pulled back the bed sheets and motioned for Frieda to pull down her pyjama bottoms so that he had a clearer view of her stomach. He then gently pushed the vest top that she was wearing up away from her belly, carefully peeling away the gauze and tape which covered the wound. It was then that he saw it for the first time and noted that although it had not been incredibly deep, it had been just deep enough to require a significant number of stitches and ran almost the entire length of her lower stomach. It was no wonder her body had been too traumatized to carry their baby any longer. It was no wonder that Frieda was so traumatized herself.

"It's healing well." He told her honestly as he checked for signs of infection. "There's no sign of any complications. In a few weeks you'll be as good as new again." He added, tracing his gloved fingers shakily along the outer edges of the wound.

"That good." She answered; her voice soft and wary.

He could feel her eyes on him even though he couldn't tear his own away from her stomach. He couldn't help but think of the baby that had been growing inside there. A baby that he had only known about for sheer seconds before she had miscarried. A baby he had not yet had any proper time to grieve for.

"You're gonna need to take it easy though." He told her; his gaze still focused on her olive skin and tears burning behind his brown eyes. "Your body's been through enough."

A hot tear fell from his eye and onto her skin.

"American…"

"Let me just change the dressing for you…" He continued; another tear falling from his eyes against his wishes. He was so angry with himself. She needed him to be strong so she could get through this. She didn't need him to lose control and break down.

"American…" She called again. "Stop. Does it really look so bad that it make you cry?"

He lifted his head up and met her gaze.

"It's not that." He reassured her, his voice soft. "Not even this could make you any less beautiful."

He gently pressed a fresh gauze pad onto the wound and stuck it down, then covered her back up with her bed sheets and vest top; his fingertips still lingering over her skin.

"Our kid was in here Frieda. It was safe and sound inside here and now…now it's gone and I never knew…not until it was too late. It was my baby. My son or my daughter…we made it together…and now…"

He broke down completely, for the first time in front of her, and found that he didn't know what to do with himself…that there was no way to stop the outpouring of grief that was flowing now so freely from him. He let himself collapse into a sitting position on the bed, his head hung low.

"I just don't understand how he could do something like this. You told him about the baby…you told him that its father was there on the ward too. You pleaded for him not to hurt any of us but he did. He hurt us all. Look at you? You should never have gone through this. You shouldn't have this." He motioned to her bandaged stomach.

Frieda reached out a hand and placed it over his.

"I thought the pain of walking away from you was bad enough Petrenko, but this…I could've lost you and I can't have that happen. I just can't." He repeated softly. "I am so, so sorry for all the sadness that I seem to have brought into your life. It's all I ever bring to the people I care about."

She pulled herself up into a sitting position and carefully shuffled closer to him, cupping his cheeks in her palms and tilting his face upwards so that their gazes met.

"It okay." She soothed. "It okay. I here. I not go anywhere. How could I leave first man who ever said he loved me and meant it? Even if he is jackass who had to run out on me before he decide to share?" She joked, giving him a dimpled smile.

"I'm glad you realise that I meant it." He told her sincerely, his brown eyes now lost in her gaze. "I would've wanted you both Frieda. We would have been a damn good family…if not a little dysfunctional. I'm feeling this too. I know it's different for you but just so you know…I do feel the loss of our kid."

"I know you do. I sorry I given you such a hard time." She apologised.

"It's understandable. I deserve it."

"You deserve some of it. I know you been trying to make things right since we got back and I didn't really hear you out."

"Yeah well I hurt you." He replied, regret still tugging at his heart.

"Still. I know it take a lot for Michael Spence to admit his wrongdoings." She teased.

"Not when something's so important to me." He told her honestly, tracing his fingertips over her jawbone and marvelling at how beautiful she looked, regardless of her having spent days in hospital and having gone through such a traumatic ordeal.

"You important to me too. I…" Frieda began, but didn't get the chance to finish. A knock on the door signified that their friends and colleagues had arrived for a visit. "Sorry." She mouthed to him as Eddi, Luc and Sacha entered the room, carrying balloons and chocolates and an array of get well soon cards.

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air. Excuse me." He told them all shakily, picking up the clinical waste left from Frieda's exam and walking out of the room, all the time wondering what she had been just about to say.


	10. Chapter 10

It was late when he made his way through the corridors leading to her room; a path he now knew by heart though every day he wished he didn't. Instead he just wished for her to be well…for their baby to be back…for their chance to be a family, though he knew that right now it wasn't meant to be. The moon shone brightly outside the hospital, lighting up the grounds eerily, while stars twinkled brightly overhead. It was a beautiful night out there and he planned to make the most of it because he could no longer bear to see her in such pain.

He shifted the heavy bags in his hands as he walked, wondering how she was doing. He'd only seen her briefly that day before his shift and again she had seemed a little subdued. He had spent every moment since then thinking about her and hoping that she was okay, finding it particularly hard because it was his first full day back at work rather than at her side while she recovered. It had been absolute torture for him being away from her and if he was honest, he didn't know what he would do with himself when she no longer needed him there.

As he made his way to her door, he remembered the conversation that he'd had there that very morning when he had been stopped on his way to Plastics by her consultant. Worry had immediately gripped him. Had she taken a turn for the worse and no one had told him? Had she acquired an infection? Was that the reason why she had been so quiet? She was feeling worse and didn't know how to tell him? His fears however had been quelled when the man had explained that Frieda had been told before Michael had arrived that she was going to be able to go home the next day on the proviso that she consented for her condition to continue to be monitored at home and to visit a trauma counsellor at the hospital. While she had agreed, the man explained that she hadn't seemed particularly overjoyed by the idea, regardless of her less than sunny attitude towards being an inpatient. He had asked Michael if she had spoken any more about it with him. Truth be told, speaking with the consultant had been the first time that Michael had even heard any news about her going home. Truth be told he too felt miserable about it because he knew that there would be a distinct lack of Angry Barbie in his life from that moment on.

Knocking on her door, he peeped his head around it to see her sat in a chair by the window, gazing up at the stars.

"Sacha said you left long time ago." She told him softly, without even turning around. "I not expect to see you."

"You really think I'd not bother to come?" He asked her.

Frieda shrugged.

He hated that once again she was doubting him…doubting the feelings that she had only days before acknowledged as being meant. He had no idea what she felt for him but still there he was doing his best to support her. Doing his best to prove that he cared.

"The Doc told me that you were going home tomorrow. I went to get you some clothes because I figured you wouldn't wanna go home in scrubs. I also had some errands to run, which is why I want you to put on this…" He commented, gently throwing her coat onto her lap. "…and then get into this."

He motioned to a wheelchair which sat unused by her door.

"And why may I ask do you want me to put coat on?" She questioned, her eyebrows raised and her gaze for the first time meeting his.

He couldn't help but smile at the childlike look of curiosity that had appeared on her face.

"Well, you aren't going to find out by just sitting there are you?" He teased, smiling as she lifted herself up from the seat and began to pull her coat on. He placed the bag of spare clothes onto the bed and immediately rushed to help when she winced.

"I poorly woman, and you taking me out in cold." She exclaimed with a mock sigh as he carefully pulled her coat up over her shoulders, his knuckles brushing the soft skin of her cheeks.

"I had to make your last night in hospital memorable didn't I? After all, you'll barely have to put up with me after tomorrow. That's a cause for celebration all on its own." He told her a little sadly and he noticed her hesitate a little with her coats buttons as she looked up at him.

"It will be…different." She commented quietly, and he so wished that he could see into her thoughts right at that moment and know what she was feeling. "Thank you for bringing clothes."

"You're welcome. Eddi leant me your spare key. I hope that's okay."

"Of course." She told him softly, smiling as he motioned for her to link her arm in his. He carefully led her over to the wheelchair.

"I know you're gonna hate me for taking you out in this but I didn't want you to hurt yourself more, and you know…I'm a little too old to carry you."

"This is true." She responded, her dimpled smile once again appearing and warming his heart. "You are old man…" She teased.

Gently he helped her lower herself into the chair. He then pulled off his scarf and kneeling down in front of her tied it around her neck.

"Contrary to what you believe I don't want you catching cold." He explained, resisting the urge to place a tender kiss on her forehead. "Although I don't know why I should be so considerate after that painful comment." He added, giving her arm a playful swat.

"Because I was mother of your child and you love me."

"There is that." He agreed, pulling himself up and moving behind the chair so that he could push it; enjoying the playful banter but at the same time willing her to once again really let him in.

"What are you up to American?" She questioned again as he pushed her out of the door and through the hospital corridors. "American…" She repeated minutes later when they were in the hospital grounds and he hadn't answered.

"I thought you'd like some fresh air…and something other than hospital food." He told her, wheeling her over to the picnic area and easing her out of the wheelchair and onto the seat by the picnic table. He watched as she marvelled over the wooden pagoda, now covered in roses and fairy lights and the table in front of her, with a delicately patterned table cloth now strewn over it, covered in rose petals, candles and plates containing a variety of Ukranian foods.

"How did you…" She started, unable to find the words.

Her eyes immediately met his as he sat down at her side, passing her a plate and a glass and pouring her some water.

"I rang your mom to tell her how you were doing and in the midst of my usual telling off from her for helping to put you in such an awful state …let's just say I got a bit emotional and she felt sorry for me. I asked for her help because I wanted to cheer you up and thankfully she gave it."

"Did you cook this?" Frieda asked him, her mouth open in awe.

"I did, with a little help from Nurse McKee. I can't promise that it's edible, but we gave it our best shot."

"Thank you." She replied a little tearfully.

He took her hand in his and entwined her fingers with his own, blowing warm air onto them as she shivered slightly.

"You deserve it." He told her sincerely. "Now, dig in…" He added, unable to take his eyes off her as she happily dished up food onto both of their plates and then ate more heartily than he had seen her do in days.

"This is so beautiful Michael." She whispered, turning to him as she finished her meal and running her fingertips over his cheeks.

"Not as beautiful as you." He replied, placing his hand over hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "There's something else I wanted to do. I thought…maybe it might help."

He reached under the bench and pulled out a sky lantern.

"I thought that this might help us say goodbye to the baby." He explained, carefully watching her face for any sign of anger or upset. Making her feel awful when she seemed happy was the last thing that he wanted to do, but he knew that closure on such a hard chapter of their lives would be beneficial in the long run. "I know that we're never gonna forget what happened and we're never gonna forget that we could've had a kid but…we've got no other way to mark our baby's passing…and with it being your last night here…"

Frieda gently lifted herself up from the bench, and using one of the candles lit the bottom of the lantern. With one hand she gripped it tightly and with the other she reached out for one of his own.

Slowly she led him away from the table and over to an open area of the hospital grounds. Hands trembling, she turned to him, her eyes full of tears.

"I not know if I can let this go." She told him softly, tears beginning to stream down the olive cheeks now rosy with cold.

"Then we'll do it together. We'll let it float up as high as it can go so that little Spence can see that it's mommy and daddy are thinking of it…that we'll always be thinking of it."

He reached out his free hand and placed it on the bottom of the lantern with hers, its flimsy material trembling with the emotion that was causing their hands to shake.

"This is just us saying goodbye, you know that right? This isn't me trying to pretend that it never happened…to ignore Ukraine or you, or the fact we made what would have been a beautiful, bouncing baby…"

"I know." She replied honestly. "Goodbye baby." She then whispered; the hand entwined in his gripping it even more tightly.

"Goodbye little one." He whispered, the pair tearfully turning to each other and giving each other a small nod before letting go of the lantern and watching its ascent.

For a few moments they both stood, their eyes turned upwards towards the sky as they watched its path underneath the stars; then she was on the ground, having fallen to her knees in a fit of sobs.

"This was a terrible idea. I'm so sorry…" He told her tearfully, falling onto the ground behind her and pulling her carefully over to him so that she was sat between his knees with her back against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around her.

"No…." She replied softly. "I need this. We need this…to say goodbye…so we can start to move on from whole, terrible, ordeal."

"If moving on means being apart from you…" He started, planting a chaste kiss on the top of her head as worry overcame him that they were nearing the end of the time they had spent so closely together, trying to get over such pain and incredible loss.

"It doesn't." She reassured him, shuffling her body so that hers was facing his; the tear tracks on her cheeks sparkling under the light of the moon. She then leant in for a deep and tender kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

He lay on his bed on that late afternoon, his thoughts still full of her. He had dropped her off at her place a couple of hours previously, offering to stay and help her to get settled back in when she hesitated at the door, only to be met with a shake of the head. She did after all have to get used to spending some time apart from him even if they planned to see where things between them might go. She also needed some time to process things alone. Still he missed her. He missed her terribly and with each second that passed he found himself worrying about her. What if something had gone wrong and she had hurt herself? What if being at home would prove to be too hard emotionally after all of the trauma she had been through? Particularly as he had made it his mission while she was in hospital to ensure that she never had to go through it alone. The truth was, never in his life had he cared or worried so much about any woman that he had made love to, but then he had never met a woman like her…a woman who truly was his match…a woman who he knew he could never walk away from as he had done from Annalese and so many before. He had never loved anyone as he loved her and that thought alone left him feeling right that second as if his heart was aching from the sheer distance that she was away from him…like it would never be whole again.

Frustrated that his head was buzzing and the sleep that had promised to be his escape was evading him, he turned over and buried his face in the pillows; his thoughts turning back to the kiss from the night before. It had been so unexpected on his part, and clearly driven by her emotions, but still it had offered him hope that his feelings for her were reciprocated…that her heart held for him the same amount of care that his held for her. She had promised him that they wouldn't be parted under the light of those stars and when he had wheeled her back up to her room and tucked her into her bed, had told him that if he wanted to give things between them a proper shot then she would be willing because they had been through too much together and become too close to just walk away from whatever the hell had begun to develop long before their trip to Ukraine. Now he found himself alone he couldn't help but panic. What if she changed her mind after all? What if the woman he had grown accustomed to being around and bantering with decided that he too was just a part of the difficult chapter of her life that she wanted to forget?

Shifting again in frustration he sighed, pulling the t-shirt that was constricting his movement somewhat off and throwing it onto the floor. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and willed himself to stop thinking of her, at least for a little while so that he could get the first proper rest that he would have had in days. Still she was in his head, visions of them in Ukraine, their limbs tangled and her head resting on his chest as she slept destroying any chance that he had of drifting off peacefully and falling into a sleep induced oblivion. What he'd give to have her lying there at his side again. What he'd give just to hold her in his arms and know that she truly was his.

"Dammit." He muttered, easing himself up and resting his head in his hands. "What have you done to me Petrenko?" He asked no one in particular, rubbing his tired eyes.

It was then that he heard a knock on the front door, the action startling him and breaking him out of his reverie.

"What, is this some kind of conspiracy?" He groaned, giving up on any notion of sleep and making his way downstairs.

The visitor tapped on the door again and momentarily he wondered whether he should just ignore them, pretend he wasn't home and head back upstairs to sulk. It was then that he heard a soft voice call his name. Her voice, and with his heart pounding in his chest he opened the door to see her standing there, completely makeup less with such a nervous expression on her face that it made his heart melt.

"Am I uh…interrupting anything?" She asked his softly, her gaze falling upon his bare chest. "I can go…"

"No. God, no." He reassured her, crossing his arms over his bare skin as a blush flushed upon her cheeks. "I was just taking a nap…trying to at least. Sleep seems to be evading me." He sighed, thinking how stunning she looked even dressed in jeans and a simple white t-shirt.

"Me too." She admitted, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered with cold.

"You wanna come in?" He asked her, motioning into the warm house.

She nodded, letting him place a gentle hand on the small of her back and lead her into the lounge. She studied her surroundings intently as she walked, and he couldn't help but be thankful that he had given the house a quick tidy during the few hours that he had been home.

"You tidy my house." She stated simply as he helped her settle herself upon the sofa.

He nodded, settling himself down at her side. He wanted so much to reach out to her…to put an arm around her, or to run his fingertips over her rosy cheeks but he stopped himself. Instead he fiddled with a loose bit of cotton on the waistband of his jogging bottoms.

"You stock fridge and change bed sheets, you leave me vase of lilies, which are absolutely beautiful by the way."

"I'm glad you like them." He replied softly, unable to stop himself from wondering if maybe he had overstepped some invisible line. Was she here because she was angry with him? He wasn't sure that he could bear it if she was. All he had ever tried to do since they both got back to Holby was make things right. The last thing that he wanted to do was keep upsetting her.

"You have done so much for me…since I been in hospital and at my home…you been so thoughtful and I…I feel bad because I not been same." She admitted her face filling with sadness.

"You've had other things to think about. So much to deal with…" He told her, placing a hand on her still tender stomach.

"So have you, but you still find time to take care of me…to make sure I okay…to let me know I loved."

He looked at the floor, his cheeks burning and his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"I said when we watch sky lantern that moving on from losing baby not mean us being apart…" She started tearfully, and his heart sank. This was it. This was her saying goodbye. "And then you take me home and I say I need time on my own…"

"I think I know where this is going." He told her softly, getting up from his spot at her side and walking over to the window; the rain now falling outside mirroring his mood.

"It was mistake." She told him quietly and he felt a hot tear roll down his cheek. "How could I ever think that I could go back to flat and be on own when all I can think of is father of that baby..."

Michael turned around, his mouth wide open at her admission, and was met with a dimpled smile.

"I been so selfish American. So selfish, and I sorry for that. I took all you give me but…I was too lost…too hurt to give much of anything back."

"It's okay…" He soothed, walking back over to the chair and once again sitting beside her; taking her hands in his.

"No it not." She replied, reaching out a trembling hand and placing it upon his chest, over his heart. "You know when everyone came into hospital room and I was going to tell you something?"

"I can vaguely remember." He told her, although the memory was more than vague. Those unspoken words had plagued him for days.

"I going to tell you that…" She took a deep breath. "That I love you too. And then, when I was quiet after being told I go home …that was because…thought of not having you there with me for first time in days…it hurt."

"Yeah. It hurt me too." He responded, shuffling a little closer to her. His skin tingled under her touch. "Why'd you think I couldn't sleep?"

She sighed and rested her forehead against his. The smell of her perfume permeated every sense and once again he was reminded of that night in Ukraine.

"I need you Michael. I never need anybody before and it scares me. I think it scares my mother too." She joked and he couldn't help but laugh. "I came here not only because I want to thank you, but because I know there been so much I need to say to you which I not yet said. I saw lilies and…I had to come. I had to tell you. I sorry I not said anything before."

Never had he felt such pride swell within him; pride that a creature as beautiful as she was reciprocated the love that he felt for her. Gently he cupped her cheeks in his palms, leaned in and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, his heart skipping a beat when she responded and tangled her fingers in his hair.

"You love me." He whispered against her lips when they both took a breath, and he could feel her smile mirrored against his.

"I do. But don't go getting big head now American or I might take it back." She teased, tracing her fingers up and down his abs.

"You wouldn't."

"No. No I wouldn't." She reassured, running her fingertips over his bicep. "You would have been good father American." She added softly after a moment's silence. "As long as you decide not to stray."

"From you and our kid? Not possible." He replied, running his fingertips through the long hair that cascaded down past her shoulders.

"Maybe we get chance to find out one day what family of our own would be like. If of course you behave…"

"You really think I wanna face the wrath of Mama Petrenko again?" He questioned, his eyebrows raised. "You are the only woman I want and our child…is the only one that I can see in my future. Besides, I know that you and Nurse McKee for that matter will hurt me if I ever screw up again."

"You know me so well." She told him with a grin and the butterflies in his stomach went wild when she went on to plant her own soft kiss on his lips.

"So what do we do now?" He whispered when they finally came up for air, brown eyes looking deeply into green and seeing so much more life in them than he had seen for weeks.

"We sleep." She whispered simply, the pair scooting back into a more comfortable position on the sofa, still entwined in each other's arms. "I never leave you American." She added drowsily. "I could never leave first man I ever really love."

"I could never leave you." He replied honestly, as the head resting against his chest drooped; the sound of his heartbeat soothing her into her first peaceful slumber in days.

And he didn't.

The End.


End file.
